Page 80 of The Runner
George shook her hand off him and moved closer to Caroline, who still lay there, unresponsive. ‘I’m afraid it’s been quite a morning, and I am responsible for the fire,’ George said, his voice empty and flat.
‘But whatever can you mean? You’ve been drinking and are not thinking straight,’ said the countess.
‘I have indeed been drinking, and I lost our estate to a depraved individual in a reckless card game, and I fought a duel to defend my honour.’
Caroline spluttered and coughed, and her eyes opened. ‘You are safe,’ she whispered, her eyes seeking George’s.
‘Thanks to your bravery, everyone is safe,’ said George. He reached for her hand and brought it to his cold lips and kissed it.
‘We can never thank you enough. We might all have been burned alive, but for your return. Thank God you are okay,’ said Olivia, sobbing with relief.
‘How did you learn of the fire, dearest Caroline?’ George asked, continuing to clasp her hand, despite his mother’s stunned expression.
‘I had a dream,’ she replied, still disorientated, too weary and shocked to guard her tongue. Cara's memories flashed in and out of her mind. ‘I knew you were in danger, and that I must come. Once I arrived in the village, I smelt the smoke and raced over here. Ralph started the fire—I met him in the woods, and he ran away after warning me not to say I saw him there. Thank the lord, I made it in time,’ she said. A faint smile passed over her pale lips as she looked into George’s loving eyes, before she slipped out of consciousness again.
‘Where is the doctor? Is he coming all the way from London?’ George snapped. ‘Taylor, have you any word?’
‘It would appear we have certain matters to discuss in private,’ said the countess, as she appraised her son, and interrupted his torrent of questions.
‘All in good time, Mother.’
Taylor approached and told George the latest on the state of the fire and assured him the doctor was on his way.
‘We have had the good fortune to narrowly escape a disaster to end all disasters, thanks to Caroline.’ Tears trickled down George’s face onto his muddy, blood-stained shirt. Emotion overcame him and he was exhausted from the duel but could not rest with Caroline in this state.
He turned to the countess. ‘We are safe—our only concern now must be Caroline, for without her we would all surely be in mortal peril.’
‘I fear Caroline isn’t the only one who needs the attention of the good doctor. Your cheek bleeds, George,’ said Olivia, both disturbed and fascinated by the morning’s intrigue in equal measures.
The doctor arrived shortly after, and as he pushed Caroline’s cloak aside to examine her more closely, a gold monogrammed handkerchief fluttered from one of the pockets and landed on the ground at the feet of the countess.
She stopped to pick it up. ‘This is yours,’ she said dryly, one eyebrow raised as she passed it to George, and looked into his eyes.
He averted his gaze and spoke to the doctor.
‘She will live,’ the doctor pronounced, a few minutes later. ‘She’s a lucky young woman, given the extent of the smoke she must have inhaled.’
‘Are you certain she will make a full recovery?’ asked George, who paced about as near to her as the doctor would allow.
‘Yes, I am confident she will recover, but she will need a period of convalescence. She is weak and doesn’t look like she’s had a good meal in days, perhaps even weeks, so as soon as she comes around and is rested, see that she eats to regain her strength.’
The doctor then examined George’s cheek. He assured him it was nothing to be overly concerned about, but may leave a small scar.
‘I heard about the duel,’ he said, his tone disapproving. ‘Dare I ask what became of the other party?’
‘I have a feeling we won’t be seeing him for a while,’ said George, as the doctor bid them farewell and promised to return to check on Caroline the following day.
Taylor assisted George to move Caroline, who had now regained consciousness, to the other side of the house, well away from the smoky wing. She fell into a deep sleep and didn’t wake for hours as George hovered nearby.
When she opened her eyes, George was still beside her bed, despite his mother’s protestations.
He held her hand and kissed it once more. ‘Thank God you are alive. I cannot stand being parted from you—I would rather die, and I confess I almost did this morning. I have been a fool of the worst kind. Can you ever forgive my stubbornness, my love?’
Caroline squeezed his hand and tried to reply, but no words came out, only a croak.
‘Don’t speak for your throat is sore. Nod if you can forgive me,’ he said, as he kissed the palm of her hand, and the tears welled in his eyes again.
Caroline nodded. The light of hope leapt into her heart as she realised he had come back to her.
